Correspondence
by ElvenAngelMayCry
Summary: The challenge: 10 letters written by Dante and his friend Tess, over the time they were separated. Short vignettes of humor, references, flame-war, sarcasm and everything you'd expect from two implacable friends. Fanfic ref, OC, slight OOC, DMC4 spoilers.
1. Letter 1

This is bad. I promised myself I wasn't going to write anything more related to Devil May Cry until I got Frail Equilibrium's sequel all worked out, or got White in writing--and yet here I am! I have one bad habit you see, I like challenges. And along comes my other DMC maniac friend, Martin, to set me a challenge.

"This has been floating around a little: '10 letters exchanged between two characters of your choice, for whatever reasons. The theme of each letter will be supplied by the challenger.' I dare ya."

I tried to say no. I _really_ did. And then I caved. So here we are. A handful of letters exchanged between Dante and his friend Tess over the ten years they're apart. There's no particular time-line as to when these letters were written, so you can let your imagination go wild.

Are they at all connected with my plans for a sequel? Perhaps they are, perhaps they're not. No fun if I tell you everything now, is there?

**

* * *

Letter:** #1  
**Title:** Kick-off  
**Theme:** Adjustment

* * *

Twig (shut up, I'm calling you this till you die),

This has to be one of your dumbest ideas ever. Of all things, you want me to write to you. You and those lame bets of yours, I don't know how I keep losing to your twiggy ass and making these promises. At least, don't you dare raise a complaint about how I write.

I've been doing ok, considering things. Found a new joint to set up shop after the last one got trashed. Sometimes I wish insurance companies would cover 'destruction by demonic attack'. Make my life so damn easier. At least the new place is bigger and the walls actually have some sound insulation, otherwise the noise from the bar down the street would drive me nuts every night. Enzo's being a pain in the balls, as usual. Keeps turning up these stupid jobs all the time, missing people, death contracts, gang war meddling--anything but the kinds of jobs I'd bother doing. He tried passing me a _haunted house_ job the other day. Real dumb, right up your alley.

No, I didn't take the job. I don't bother with the dead.

Look, why don't you just give me a goddamn number and just talk on the phone instead of this crap? Its not gonna kill you. At any rate, you must be pretty damn bored without me to get on your nerves, making me do this. You sure you're no masochist, Twig? But yeah, it's been kinda boring without you dragging me into trouble. Can't say I'm missing you yet but I keep getting this funny feeling you're gonna walk through the front door all the time. Whoah, look at this, can't believe I wrote so much already. My hand's starting to cramp up.

Anyway, take care of yourself, Twig, and don't get yourself in trouble, 'cuz I'm not around to get you out of it. Seriously, stay on your toes. I ain't trusting those nutso wiccans you've gone and hooked up with. Don't get hurt being a stubborn mule. You wanna do something, stick with Roy--and give that fuzzball my regards. You better answer this.

-Dante


	2. Letter 2

**Letter:** #2  
**Title:** Weird Crowds  
**Theme:** Complaining

* * *

Dante -

Ew, quit your whining. You _know_ there's a reason we can't use the phone to communicate. The only reasons they can't trace the letters is because of the little _arrangements_ that Roy's done. Besides, its not gonna kill you to keep your spelling and grammar skills alive. You're bad as it is. And yes, you will keep writing these letters because you know I'll make good of my threat and lay _another_ curse on your ass--unless getting stabbed every other day by your own sword isn't enough for you. Or do you forget all the dirt I have on you?

And just what do you mean, 'right up my alley', do you think I'm only good in dealing with hauntings?! Screw you, Dante, I can take out demons just fine, and I do NOT need Roy to baby me all the time. Do I have to start sending you a monthly body count or something? And isn't Enzo that fat oaf that used to get drunk all over the place? Ugh, you're working with him then; Jesus, I thought you had more sense than that.

I'm settling over here too, although it's a total pain. These coven people have to be the most narrow-minded bunch of...of dumbasses ever! Jesus, there's rules for nearly everything and to me its all a pile of steaming dog crap. Don't laugh at it, by the way and you better be a little thankful that you didn't have to meet these jackasses. Sure, there's one or two of the younger, other initiates that are somewhat normal in the head, but they look like they're going soon. Sometimes the nonsense I hear from these people makes me wanna _scream_.

Oh and then there's this wacko alchemist guy, Ricardo...De Castro or whatever his last name is. He's a real piece, this guy; know-it-all, sarcastic, arrogant, right up _your _alley, though admittedly he doesn't quite make me laugh as hard as you did. Seriously, I don't know if he's really kinda crazy or if he's just faking it all. He's kind of...giving me the eyes or something. Hell if I know...or care.

Roy's ok, as always. His eye's healed up but its all scared and ugly so he's always wearing these weird sunglasses he picked up--in human form of course, when he's a cat he doesn't give rat's ass, which is why he stays like that most of the time. He says 'hi'...his way, which is kinda weird, he's preaching out loud and I have no real idea what the hell he's talking about, I'm not bothering to take notes.

And quit fussing over me. I'm fine. You sound _almost worried _about me--now that'd be something, wouldn't it? Hah. You're the one who should be careful; you're more reckless than a stampeding pack of mustangs on speed. I know you're half-demon and all that stuff, but seriously; _try_ to not get yourself killed before we meet again, ok? And for the love of God, cut down on the pizzas, I could smell stale pizza all over your letter! And cut down on the ice cream too, I don't wanna see you sport a beer-belly or something later.

-Tess.


	3. Letter 3

**Letter:** #3  
**Title:** Two Birds With One Stone  
**Theme:** Reference

* * *

- Twig

Man feels good to be home again. I hate traveling abroad. You probably know about the city of Fortuna. Knowing you, you're probably up to date with all the mess that went on there as well. Yeah, _my_ bad. Or theirs, whatever floats your boat. As usual, a bunch of wacko megalomaniacs--this time obsessed with my old man, how's _that_ creepy for you-- are up to no good and as usual...I have to do clean-up.

I was half-expecting most of what was really going on--like finding Vergil's Yamato there and everyone having switched to DemonPants. And a crapload of Hell Gates with a throng of demons, all for me to kill. You should've seen the shit going on. I bet you'd have cracked up with that huge statue they managed to animate. It had _wings_!

What I wasn't quite expecting was to find a kid there trying to be...well, (selfish as it may sound) me.

You'd really get a kick out of this guy. He's got a Devil Bringer arm (and you know what _that_ means) and he's more or less up my lane of fighting...just not the right way. He's a kid; he's got a lot to learn. Sometimes he reminded me of ya: obnoxious, loud, sarcastic--or cynical...though he took himself a little _too_ seriously most of the time. And ah, don't get me started on all the drama. Sheeesh.

Nero's his name, just so you know in case you ever bump into him. I hope he never has to, since you're probably going to curse the pipsqueak into oblivion. Just keep in mind...he's got Yamato now. I let him keep it (hey, I can almost imagine the look on your face when you read that line).

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate the kid, but I can't say we'll be bosom buddies either. The only reason I let him keep Yamato is...I _know_ Vergil hasn't kicked the bucket yet. And since its my job, as his little brother, to piss him off, nothing will get under his skin more than finding out that his sword is in the hands of a kid with an emo streak. You could say I'm giving Vergil some time to get back in shape before he comes for my head or something.

Plus, he'll beat the shit outta the kid, so I won't need to. Two birds with one stone.

Anyway, write back with how that job of yours in England went. I'm curious whether any poltergeists or a headless ghost pawed you up. Unless you caught _another_ cold.

- Dante.


	4. Letter 4

**Letter:** # 4  
**Title:** All In A Day's Work  
**Theme:** Scary

* * *

Dante -

Yes, thank you very much, I _have_ caught another cold and don't you dare laugh. Just because you don't get colds doesn't make it funny that I do. Colds suck. I wish you got a couple per year yourself. Better yet I hope you catch a demon cold or something, see how _that_ feels.

And I guessed the incidents in Fortuna were partly your doing. My crazy second sight 'tuned in' and I caught a few of the highlights. Kicking Berial's ass was your doing, I know. And I noticed you grew a stubble. Not sure what I think about it yet--you might just be too bored to shave. As if you'd care, anyway. But I had a serious chuckle when my coven heard of what happened. They ran around like headless chickens trying to figure out who stopped the mess and what had actually happened. I was just trying not to laugh with the whole deal. It was so easy to just scry for it with a mirror and a quartz for the details, but then again I may have just been lucky. Eventually the Archpriestess caught wind of my smirks and cornered me. I had to spill the beans (except the tiny little detail that I _actually_ know you) just to make them shut up and stop panicking.

By the way, Roy read your letter too, and he's asking me to tell you that he thinks you acted a little 'like a 10-year-old brat' and that your behavior to this Nero kid is 'as immature as you are going to get'. He adds that it's like a messed up version of childish teasing, where Vergil is concerned. I can't wait to hear that he's come round and kicked _your_ ass for that. I know I would.

My job in England was _hell_. Both figuratively and literally. Seriously; starts out as an old orphanage supposedly haunted and ends up being...well, indeed haunted _and_ filled with demons. Here's the deal: The orphanage was built on the site where a monastery stood in medieval times. Then the monastery vanished; an earthquake and very wet ground messed the region up and most of the monastery actually _sank_ underground. Long story short, some really messed up things had gone on in the monastery resulting in it having a small portal to the Underworld in the dungeon.

Now isn't _that_ predictable? Of course the demons that were lurking around the ruins ended up influencing the kids that lived in the orphanage years later. This happened around the early 1900's: led by the two oldest kids, a group of 13 kids out of the 20 living there went crazy and killed everyone else on sight. I found some old notes in the place, nearly detailing the gradual insanity--not to mention I kept getting flashbacks of the whole deal. Migraine galore. And yes, they were all twisted up and possessed by demons--even as ghosts. Particularly the two elder kids that started it all. Yeeesh, freaked me out.

I did get caught by all 13 evil little wraiths. Yeah, no plain ghosts, they had all been influenced from the Underworld and were pretty powerful...but yours truly isn't spooked by dead brats; one exorcism chant sent them all packing. You would have gotten a kick out of the demon behind it all. I never picked his name up right, but I call him Warthog. He looked like one in the face, anyway.

Right, now I'm gonna go lie down, I think my fever's perking up again, and my throat is sore as it can get. England's weather is really evil. I envy you, going to Fortuna--at least _they_ have better weather than the damn Brits! Take care, _Whitey_.

-Tess.


	5. Letter 5

**Letter:** #5  
**Title:** Life Little Less Ordinary  
**Theme:** Boredom

* * *

Twig -

First of all, do NOT ever call me _Whitey_ again. The hell is that supposed to be? I'm the only one allowed to call you anything other than your name, period! So don't do it again or you can forget these letters.

Sounds like you had fun. I'm not fully ready to buy that you beat a big-ass demon on your own, but whatever you say. I'll need to see that to believe it. I crack up thinking about it: A demon lord, getting beat up by a puny witch with an attitude problem. Hah. Better stick with hauntings and small infestations. Don't want you hurting yourself.

Things been kinda boring since Fortuna. Lady's being a pain as usual--you'd know what I mean if you knew her. She needs to get over herself. And I'm not saying this because she's human--her attitude is just...that pushy. Makes you look tame. Lately she's been busting my balls about jobs I take that get in the way of hers, while at the same time makes _me_ do the dirty bits of _her_ jobs--and then nonchalantly goes off with most of the money. I don't know why the hell I bother with her and don't just knock her on her ass. Gettin' too nice for my own good.

The way you always write about that coven makes me think you're exactly having a rosy life there. Why the hell you sticking around? Just take Roy and get outta there. Just come back over here--there's enough jobs to go around and you'd certainly make things a little less boring! It's been what, nine years? Ten? That's gotta be enough, Twig, just get outta there. Unless they're _making_ you stay, in which case...need me to drop on in and 'have a word' with them?

Try not to get killed, Tess, you still owe me and I've got your little trinket here still. Gotta return that to you sometime.

- Dante.


	6. Letter 6

**Letter:** #6  
**Title:** One Second  
**Theme:** Teasing

* * *

Dante -

Oh God, stop it with that patronizing. You're actually acting worried and its creepy! I'm just fine, you don't need to fuss and do not _dare_ try to find where I am and come over, or I'm going to personally break your neck.

And just what the hell are you implying? You really think I can't deal with major demons? Look, I'm a big girl now; I'm not a teenager who isn't sure what to do anymore, so get over yourself. Seriously, I appreciate the concern, but don't take it to the other end that makes me feel like you think I'm completely incompetent!

In fact, I'm so good that people I do work for pay me _good _and I don't have to pay for damages. So good, that I've saved enough and bought myself a car. And not just any car, Mr.Motorhead with your big-ass bike; I got myself a _Porshe_. It's the sweetest Porshe 911 Turbo S that you've ever seen and man, am I loving it. It's a jet black, gorgeous car and dear God it's _FAST_. 0-60 in 3.5 seconds and then 60 to 140...one second. ONE! That's like being kicked in the chest! And don't get me started on the handling, I've been spending all my evenings going up and down the mountain roads around the city--_drifting_.

I am never going to question the excitement men get off driving. Going nuts with a car like that is seriously better than sex!

Okay, maybe not that good, bust seriously exciting. I'm really getting into it.

And no, I'm not going to let you drive my car. I paid dear money of my own for it and trust me when I say this, you are never going to have enough money to pay me back if you trash it--which I know you will. And don't argue, I _know _what kind of reckless driver you are. I happen to like my car a lot in case you didn't notice, so I don't want it wrapped around a tree or pancaked on a building. So forget it. Go crash your bike.

I'm a little concerned lately about Roy getting in arguments with the coven big-shots. For some vague reason they're no longer ok with him entering the sanctuary--which makes _no sense_, because he's just my familiar. People with creepier familiars are allowed to go anywhere, and they've got a problem with my _cat_. Roy's pretending he's not bothered--but you know how he is. He's _steaming_. Last night someone kicked him on purpose out of a room and he spent the rest of the night cursing his ass off. He nearly started a sandstorm in the city. That would've been messy--imagine that, a sandstorm in the middle of continental Europe! I'm just weirded out by all this. I've been trying to talk to my superiors about this mess but no one seems to give rat's ass.

I don't get these people. Worse than you, sometimes.

Oh, and didn't I tell you to stop eating so much pizza all the time!? Your letter was reeking of stale pizza and garlic again! And couls see the damn cheese-drip stain on the corner. How can you eat pizza and try to write at the same time!? Its gross! I'm _this _close to picking your letters up with tweezers to keep my hands clean! Try to be less of a pig, please. Take care.

-Tess.


	7. Letter 7

**Letter:** #7  
**Title:** No Saint  
**Theme:** Food

* * *

Twig -

What the hell do you mean, my letters stink?! So I was eating a pizza while writing that last one and it picked up some smell! Its not like pizza smells bad, dammit, you're just being bitchy now. If you're gonna be this whiny all the time I should just drop the damn letters, spare me the time. I agreed to _write_ the damn things, not that I'd enjoy doing it!

And will ya stop acting like you're my mom, telling me what to eat. Sheesh! I never criticized your diet habits did I? All you eat is salads--you're like a bloody goat! No wonder you're so skinny. Just lay off! Pizza and my daily strawberry sundae are my only vices, okay? Let me enjoy them! Its not like you don't have a sweet tooth. I happen to know what a vanilla enthusiast you are, you and your vanilla shortcakes. And don't get me started on those huge slices of 'Death By Chocolate' you always ate every time we happened to go out for pizza. And didn't you also have a soft spot for that tiramisu thing? And toffee? Or have you dropped your age-old habit of baking a truckload of pastries every time you're upset and calling them 'Hate Cake' or 'Misery Muffin' or 'Emo Brownie'? You're _worse_ than me, Twig; I still can't believe how you stay skinny!

Get over yourself. You're just as bad. You're no saint, you're a witch.

And I prefer it that way.

I can't believe you bought yourself a car. And like HELL it's a Porshe. I bet its some kind of stupid knock-off that _looks_ like a Porshe, that's probably why it cost so little. And just what the hell do you mean, you wouldn't trust me to drive it?! I can drive just fine thank you! Don't expect me to believe that you can drift. Just no fucking way, Twig. If you can drift, I'm going to _eat_ the demon hide hanging behind my desk.

Anyway if Roy's gettin' worried, maybe there is something messed up going on. Get your twiggy ass outta there. I'm gettin' back to work. Try not to get yourself killed.

-Dante


	8. Letter 8

**Letter:** #8  
**Title:** Coincidence?  
**Theme:** Foreboding

* * *

Dante -

I mean that when you write letters on a filthy desk covered in pizza leftovers of _COURSE_ they're gonna end up smelling like pizza! Hell, the last one even had crumbs flattened on the back of the paper! For pity's sake, Dante! At least bother to give the damn desk a wipe before you sit down to write, is it too much to ask!?

I am _not_ patronizing you and I am not acting like your mom. I hate it when you use that figure of speech, it makes me feel guilty--and you know it! You're guilt-tripping me on purpose! Fine then, I'll just stop caring about your self-righteous ass. You can go and choke on those damn pizzas for all I care. And while we're at it, what do you care what I eat?! At least I actually bother to take care of my diet a little bit. And I am not skinny anymore, stop saying that. I'm not skinny, I'm just...fine. Medium, average, whatever. I'm no longer flat, either!

You're right, by the way. I am indeed a witch and I'm damn proud of it.

I'm sending you a photo of my car, by the way. Don't bother looking for me in the photo. After all you said I'm not sending you anything else. I can't have you knowing too much about where I am or what I'm doing anyway--and its for your own good so don't even start with the whining. And it is in fact a Porshe, thank you very much, I don't need to be a car expert. I didn't buy it cheap--though it _is_ indeed second hand. Still, I'm enjoying it. Just last night I was pulled into a drag race through the city by this air-head who dared me, the deal being a date or not, depending who won.

Of course, yours truly beat him to the ground.

Its funny, but compared to most of the guys I've been bumping into the last few years, you're _normal_. Isn't that something? I mean, first there was that fiasco with the French guy who turned out to be a werewolf (was scarier to me than you on a bad day), then that failed fling in Rome and then Ricardo's random proposal--seriously, I'm this close to plain giving up on relationships and flings altogether. You guys should have neon-signs over your heads showing what you're thinking of, or something.

I've gotten kinda tired of worrying about the coven by the way. Maybe I'm just exhausted, because I haven't been sleeping well. Samhain is coming up too and I have to prepare since for some dumb reason I'm expected to be the medium this year. Dead people buzzing in my head, woo.

Sarcastic remark, in case you missed it, by the way.

And Roy's found the perfect moment to just _vanish_. I'm not kidding, this is not one of his usual 'vacations' because he hasn't warned me, he hasn't dropped any hint about when he left, where he's gone and when he's coming back. Not that I can't handle being without him, but it's just not like him to just leave and not say anything.

I'm really tired. I think I'm going to go lay down now and try deal with this splitting headache I've got, again.

Take care.

- Tess.


	9. Letter 9

**Letter:** #9  
**Title:** Keeping Appearances  
**Theme:** Choice

* * *

Twig -

Alright, I get the message and I wipe the desk before I write. Better be the last time you whine about my letters. Be happy I bother to write 'em. And not flat anymore? Hah, pictures or it never happened, _Twig_. If you managed to put some meat on your bones I'm going to eat my boots.

So you got a Porshe and you can do a drag race. I'm still not buying you can drift--you probably raced some noob in a muscle car he didn't know how to drive. Big deal. It's a nice car, I'll give you that, but driving it is half the deal.

And just what do you mean, I'm normal? Just what the hell kind of freaks have you been hanging around? But what the heck, someone wanted to _marry you_!? Whoah, whoah, now that's big news! Man, was he crazy or was he blind? Or both? What kind of guy in his right mind would wanna get hitched with a witch with an attitude problem? Man I wish I'd seen that. You turned him down? Bet you beat the poor sap up too. I'd pay to see that. Sounds like you have the same bad luck with guy that I have with women.

Sounds like you're always in a binge, Twig. You sound like you need a break, to relax a bit. Why don't you just screw them wiccans and go away? Come back around here, for instance. You'd stop whining about them all the time, at least. Of course, we'd have some issues about the jobs, you and me, I'm certain. I don't think its like you to let anyone intrude on your jobs...Lady'd be in for a surprise. Bet I'd have to keep you out of my own jobs all the time too.

Speaking of jobs, I've been having some _doubts_ lately. Maybe I shouldn't have left the Yamato with Nero after all. I don't know why, I get this feeling that I messed up. Or that I did something just plain wrong. I can't seem to shake it off. I've done my searching; Vergil is just out of sight or existence. Either I'm looking in the wrong places, or he's really just not there. And then I catch myself wondering how long it takes before that Devil Bringer makes that kid snap and I have to go plant a bullet or two in his head. Or maybe I won't have to, because Vergil comes back out in the open and bumps the kid off himself. That's my problem, if he does, then its the kid's blood on my hands.

I hate that thought, though I'll be dead before I admit to it or let it show.

So Roy's bailed on you? Hah, that's funny, I thought the old cat wouldn't ever stop treating you like you were a kid or something. You sure you haven't pissed the poor puss off? You always did, sometimes, little miss insubordinate. He's probably gone off to blow some steam. Don't worry about him. He's a big man...or cat, he's had all his shots...what's to worry about? Let him be. Hey, I bet he's just on an extended vacation catching some sun. Maybe he's in Florida.

Tess, you _sound_ tired and even your handwriting's starting to look iffy at the bottom of the last letter. Look, babe, I'll make an exception this time and act worried: take a break. Don't want you collapsing or getting sick, got it? Take it easy.

- Dante.


	10. Letter 10

**Letter:** #10  
**Title:** Missing  
**Theme:** Absence

* * *

Twig -

What's goin' on Tess? It's been like nearly two months since your last letter. If you're mad or something, don't give me the stupid silent treatment. I know you're kind of lazy with your replies, but two months is too much even for you.

If the coven's giving you shit and not letting you reply, it's the last straw. Give me some answers, where can I find you? I'll bail you out, one way or the other, if I have to.

I've been a little busy here, dealing with yet another demonic scheme. You would have laughed at the mastermind behind this mess, he was nothing but a cowardly, weak little bastard with his eyes on more power than what was good for him. Ugly as sin though, I can imagine you freaking out at the sight of him.

Come to think of it, he creeps me out too, a bit, so you'd be justified.

Other than that, I'm stuck with the usual: Lady being a pain and much to my chagrin, a new annoyance has been added...and she's not even 16. At least your pestering had some wit to it, this kid's just clueless. I actually _do_ miss you right now.

Write back, or I'll just consider the letter deal off and start looking for you. And if you're in trouble...I warned you, I'll get involved and it's not going to be pretty.

Take care, Twig.

- Dante.


End file.
